


Closer

by Val (skeletonstories)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Connor Isn't dead, Honestly inspired by one of my roleplays? Oops., I haven't wrote in ages this is going to be dreadful I'm so sorry, I know a lot of this wont be correct with canon, If you dont like it fine but hate is unnecessary really, It's 4 am why are you outside, M/M, what a concept, |This is my version of Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonstories/pseuds/Val
Summary: It's 4 o'clock in the morning, and Connor Murphy is out, surprise surprise, smoking. Not pot this time though, so that had to be a start, right? He needed an escape, and the serenity of the nighttime streets offered exactly that to him.It's 4 o'clock in the morning, and Evan Hansen is out, surprise surprise, thinking far too much than what can be considered healthy. Although at least this time, it isn't self destructive thoughts, not too bad anyways... That had to be a start right? He needed an escape, and the serenity of the nighttime streets offered exactly that to him.-Inevitably, the boys paths cross, and even more inevitably, words are exchanged. Curious questions of the others story to their late night wanders, and eventually, names.-(Title inspired by 'Closer', by The Tiny, the song which also inspired this fiction. Chapter titles are also inspired by this song, I highly recommend you give it a listen, it really sets the mood of this story, I believe.)





	Closer

The air was hazy, thick with fog like smoke, although it quickly disappeared into the late night air... or early morning, depending on how you wanted to look at things. The lampposts weren't lit up, although they never were down here, they had broken years ago and nobody had bothered to fix them quite yet. So the only source of light in the darkness ended up being the burning embers of Connor Murphy's cigarette butt, which switched from glowing to dim, depending on whether or not he was taking a drag from it. He wasn't particularly proud of his habit, but hey, at least he wasn't smoking his usual this time. He didn't need to. The pot made his mind hazy, allowed him to do the unforgivable, 'relax', when there really was no other way. But out here, wandering the streets at four in the morning, Connor didn't need any weed to cloud over his thoughts. Instead, he allowed the peaceful silence of the roads bathed in a subtle moonlight to do that for him, occasionally startling himself when he heard a car drive somewhere in the distance. That's the funny thing about night time, you could hear everything you can't usually hear, you can tune into the wavelengths your mind doesn't usually allow for. There was a beauty in it all, some poetic niceness about it that truly allowed him to unwind. Out here, he never had to worry about somebody seeing him, about having to run into somebody he knew, whether that was somebody from school or some guy he knew through his parents. His father, Larry Murphy, often held business parties, inviting many of his coworkers from the law firm where he worked at, and Connor had a running fear of accidentally bumping into somebody he was supposed to know the name of, alongside their whole goddamned life story? The sheer thought of it made the tall man exhale a long, deep breath, smoke tumbling out from his down turned lips, natural in their scowl, the one that seemed oh so permanent on Connor Murphy's face, his signature look, almost.  
Connor was so lost in these thoughts, the ones appreciating the beauty of the night, that he didn't even register that he walked straight into somebody until he heard a small "Ow!"  
-  
Evan Hansen was tired.  
Tired of living endlessly, never ceasing to be weighed down by the responsibility that was living.  
His mother, Heidi, was doing night shift again, alongside her abundance of day shifts that was slowly building up a barrier between them both. Agh, who was Evan kidding, she wasn't building up a barrier, only maintaining the one that was already in existence. His thoughts were annoying him, rationally, he knew he was overthinking everything, from the small comments from Jared regarding their friendship-'family friendship', my bad-or his constant lack of a mother figure. Not that he didn't love Heidi, god no, he'd do anything for the woman that he called 'mom'. He just found himself constantly wishing she was home more often, even a couple of days a week, but instead she often ended up getting called out on shifts. A wave of guilt ran into Evan like a brick wall, the only reason Heidi worked so many shifts was so as they could afford to eat every day. 'God,' Evan thought, 'Why do you have to be so fuc-goddamn selfish, Hansen'? He refrained from cursing at himself, even mentally, not being a big fan of saying them. He didn't mind it as long as it was somebody else, actually, it's just he didn't like the way they felt coming from his lips, how they felt unnatural. Although they did cause him not to stutter, a fact that always made him laugh, if not at the least smile, just a little bit anyways. He'd tried it once, and he'd swore perfectly, not even the faintest hint of his usual s-s-stammer. He'd researched it after, intrigued, more so when he found out the reasoning behind it. But he quickly lost interest when he remembered they were bad words, and that he didn't want to go around saying them, regardless of how nice they made his speech sound. With a subtle grin, he realised that to never stutter again, would be to walk around living his life only using curse words. The thought entertained him, pulling his attention away from the reality that was this: Evan Hansen was lonely. So lonely, in fact, that at four o'clock in the morning, five hours after his self decided bedtime, he was walking... no, stumbling, along the streets of his quiet hometown. Not that he was tipsy, just a rather clumsy person in character.  
He was so immersed in these thoughts of his, in fact, that he wasn't really aware of the fact somebody had just walked straight into him, not until he involuntarily let out a small sound of protest.  
"Ow!"

**Author's Note:**

> Short chapter y'all just to get this started off, almost like a prologue, just an introduction to the characters!


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